Page 36 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie (Second Chance Hockey Players #2)

Chapter twenty-five

Whitney

F unny how silence can be louder than screaming.

It presses in from all sides, thick and suffocating, wrapping around me like an iron chain.

I sit, spine rigid, hands folded tight on my lap, the fabric of my dress bunched between my fingers.

My eyes stay locked on the swirling pattern of blue and white, tracing the curves and lines as if they are the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen - something, anything, to keep me from looking up.

Because I know what waits for me if I do.

Anger. Disappointment. Hurt. All of it simmering in the silence, thickening the air until it presses against my chest, making it impossible to breathe.

Oh. Right. I’m back home.

Another family meeting.

Because of me.

Again.

The fourth one since I got back. That has to be a record, right?

I’m starting to feel like a walking scandal, someone whose name will be muttered in family gatherings years from now.

A cautionary tale. If I weren’t so tense, I might laugh at the absurdity of it.

But my stomach twists instead, nerves coiling tighter and tighter.

I squeeze my hands together, swallowing against the tightness in my throat.

After trying Keith’s number for days, even after he met Blake three days ago, he finally picked up the call yesterday, only to tell me to come home because my parents wanted to see me.

I knew what it was about. Of course, I knew. And since yesterday, I’ve been trying to keep the nervous jitters in my belly from turning into full-blown nausea. Right now, though? Those jitters have multiplied into a swarm of nerves clawing at my insides.

No one speaks. No one moves. They just sit or stand there, staring at me.

Keith’s leaning against the staircase, arms crossed over his chest, watching me like I’m an equation that doesn’t add up.

Rosa, Edward, and Janet - each one of them practically burning holes into me with their glares.

Disappointed. Angry. And my mother…, I can’t look at her. I won’t.

I’ve stolen quick glances at my dad, but his face is unreadable. Completely blank. A void.

That’s almost worse.

Because if he was angry, at least I’d know what to brace for. If he was disappointed, I’d know where I stood. But this…, this emptiness? This careful neutrality? It terrifies me.

I feel small. Like a child being scolded for something they don’t fully understand. Like I’ve been backed into a corner with no way out.

From the way they’re all looking at me, you’d think I set the house on fire.

Dad exhales, slow and heavy. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, his fingers clasped together. His gaze doesn’t waver, but I can see the restraint in the tight set of his jaw, in the way his knuckles blanch as he laces his fingers.

“Why, Whitney?” His voice is calm, but it carries weight, disappointment layered beneath every syllable.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

"Blake?" His jaw tightens as he says the name. "You’ve been with Blake this whole time, and you never thought to tell us?"

I open my mouth again and it’s like my words are stuck in my throat.

"We know him, Whitney," my mother says, her voice low, clipped. "For goodness sakes, he’s Keith’s best friend. He’s practically lived in this house. Of all people - him ? Why? And you kept this a secret? Why?"

"When were you planning on telling us?" My father presses.

I swallow hard.

“Answer me.” His voice is still quiet, but there’s no mistaking the sharp edge beneath it.

I immediately nod.

Dad shakes his head. I grip my dress tighter. My stomach clenches.

I was going to tell them. But looking at them now, at the sheer disbelief, the frustration, the unspoken anger hanging heavy in the air, I wonder if it would’ve ever made a difference then or now.

“I didn’t mean to hide it…” My voice is barely a whisper, weak even to my own ears.

A scoff breaks the silence. Janet.

“So, this is why you’ve been acting weird,” she mutters. “I should’ve known. Keith says this is the second ‘secret relationship’ between you and Blake. Wow, just wonderful.”

Edward shakes his head, his glare searing into me. “I don’t get it. What were you thinking?”

The words come at me from every direction, layering over each other - frustration, disappointment, disbelief.

“You should have told us.”

“You had every chance.”

“This is beyond reckless, Whitney.”

And then…

“End it”

My dad’s voice cuts through the noise. It’s not a suggestion. It’s an order.

I blink. “What?”

“This…, mistake…!”

“It’s not a mistake.” My voice finally breaks free, hoarse but firm.

Silence.

For a second, no one speaks.

Then, Edward lets out a bitter laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” My hands ball into fists and lift my chin. “I’m not ending anything.”

The air shifts, crackling with disbelief.

“Whitney,” my father says, his voice heavy, “you have to break this off.”

“No.”

"Whitney," my mother exhales, exasperated, "this relationship is built on lies."

"I…, we never lied," I snap. “We just…, didn’t tell you."

"That’s the same thing!" Janet throws her hands up.

"No, it’s not," I shoot back, my chest tightening. "And you all know Blake. You know him. You’ve known him for years. So why is this even a discussion? I get that you are upset and disappointed, but why are you asking me to end things with him?"

"Because we know him," Edward cuts in, his voice sharp, "which is all the more reason for you to end it."

My stomach drops. "What does that even mean?"

My mother exhales, slow and deliberate, before delivering the words that send a chill through my spine. "It means I don’t want my daughter tied to a man who comes from abandonment - who was raised in it. Because patterns repeat, Whitney.”

Silence.

She didn’t just say that.

It falls over the room like a heavy, suffocating fog.

My chest tightens, my breath catching in my throat.

Every single person turns to look at her.

"Mum?" Janet’s voice is barely above a whisper like she can’t believe what she just heard.

"Mum!" Rosa starts, then stops and exhales sharply. "You didn’t just say that."

Her lips part slightly, her eyes widening in horror. She lifts a hand to her mouth as if she can take the words back and erase them from existence. "I didn’t…"

I stare at her, my chest tightening like a vice. "Not what, Mum?" My voice wavers, but the fire in my veins burns hotter. "Not what? Not say that? Not mean it? Because you did. That’s exactly how you’ve been looking at him all these years, isn’t it?"

Her silence is enough of an answer.

I let out a breath, a bitter, unsteady laugh.

"And yet you're friends with his mum. You smile at her. You talk to her like you actually care, like she’s not the same woman who raised the ‘abandoned son’ you just dismissed.

" My voice breaks slightly on the last words, but I push through it.

"I get that you are looking for a reason or excuse for me to end things with him, but you didn’t have to say that, Mom. That was low."

Her lips part, but no words come out.

"Whitney!" Janet snaps, horrified. "Don’t talk to her like that."

"She’s still our mother," Edward adds, his voice laced with warning.

I scoff. "And I’m still her daughter. But that didn't stop her from looking me in the eye and saying something so cruel about the man I love."

Silence. Thick, suffocating.

Keith still hasn’t said a word, but his jaw is tight, his arms crossed like he’s holding himself back.

“For goodness sake, this is not that deep. I am sorry, okay? I am really, really sorry for keeping my relationship with Blake a secret from you all. I am really sorry. But asking me to end things with him is taking it too far. You can be upset, angry, disappointed, but don’t ask me to end things with him because I won’t. ”

“Whitney…”

"No!" I stand abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor, the sound sharp in the heavy silence.

"Please, don’t ask that of me. I am not ending it, because I am the one in this relationship.

Not you. Me!" I press a hand against my chest, my heart pounding beneath my fingertips. "You don’t get to dictate this. You don’t get to decide who I love. "

Dad just sits staring at me. Mum exhales sharply, shaking her head. "Whitney, you deserve someone better. You are our little girl. I get that Blake is charming and nice and all…. But… sweetie, you don’t understand…"

I throw my hands up and begin to pace. “No, you don’t understand. Why do you all always do this when it comes to me? Huh? Why? Why do you shut down and disapprove of everything when it comes to me?”

My voice rises, thick with frustration. “It’s always, ‘Whitney, are you sure?’ ‘Whitney, maybe think it through.’ ‘Whitney, you should reconsider.’ ‘Whitney, you should not do this.” I let out a bitter laugh.

“Meanwhile, everyone else gets a free pass and who they get to be with. Everyone else gets to make their choices without being second-guessed, but me? No, not me. Never me.”

“Sweetheart, that’s not…”

“It is true,” I cut my mother off, my chest burning.

“It always has been. How many times did you scold Ed, Jane, Rosa, and Keith for their choice in who they dated or married? I can count it on one hand. But me? Lots of times. At first, I thought it was because you really cared about me and didn't want me to get hurt, but then, as time went on, it just seemed quite the opposite. I’ve always been the one no one paid much mind to. The one always fighting, always wanting your attention, your love. The one whose ideas and wants got shut down or asked to be reconsidered while the rest of you…” My breath catches, my vision blurring.

“The rest of you just got things. No resistance. No hesitation.”

“Sweetheart…,” my dad starts, standing to walk over to me but I cut him off, my mind already spiraling.

“No, let me finish, Dad,” the words spilling out now, raw and jagged.

“It’s too much…, all too much. I’m tired of the shaming, the constant disregard, the comparisons, and the constant family meetings called because they have something to discuss about ‘Whitney.’” I press a hand to my chest, my heart hammering against my palm.

“Do you even realize how much that hurt? How much it still hurts?”

I drag a shaky hand through my hair, letting out an unsteady breath.

“You want to know why I fell for Blake? Yeah, it started out as a stupid crush on my brother’s handsome best friend, but it became so much more than that.

” My voice wavers, but I push through, the words spilling out fast, raw. “Because he saw me.”

I let out a shaky laugh, shaking my head.

“Do you know what that felt like? After years of being the one who had to fight to be heard, to be noticed? To have someone actually look at me and see what I needed?” I swallow hard, my throat burning.

“He was…, there. He listened when no one else did. He made me feel like I mattered when I spent most of my life feeling like I didn’t. ”

I turn to my parents, my hands trembling.

“And you think that’s not enough? That he’s not good enough for me?

” My voice rises, thick with emotion. “He filled the emptiness you all left behind. He gave me what I spent my whole life searching for - love, acceptance, completeness. And you want me to throw that away?”

Silence.

A lump forms in my throat, but I force myself to keep going.

“You know, I used to think maybe I was just needy. Desperate for attention.” I let out a bitter laugh.

“And maybe I was. Maybe I am. But can you blame me?” My chest tightens, the weight of years pressing down on me.

“You all adore Rosa. You respect Edward. Treat Janet like a princess. Cuddle Keith. Keith…” My voice catches as I turn to him, my heart squeezing. “We were close. Until we weren’t.”

Keith’s jaw tightens, his arms still crossed, his eyes soften. “That’s not true,” he says quietly.

I let out a hollow laugh. “Yeah, it is. We were close - until we weren’t. I enjoyed being with you, but then, I suddenly felt like a shadow hovering around you because you were the only one who didn’t mind my presence.” My voice shakes, but I keep going, needing to get this out.

He shakes his head. “Whit, I…”

I cut him off, my voice cracking. “This might be random, but did any of you know I was bullied for a semester in high school?”

The room stills.

Edward stiffens. Rosa’s eyes widen. My mother’s lips part, shock written all over her face.

I exhale sharply, shaking my head. “No. Of course, you didn’t. I tried to tell you. But no one ever listens to me.” My voice is hard. “You only listen when it’s convenient. When it fits the version of me you’ve built in your head.”

My father finally speaks, his voice gruff. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” I challenge myself, my eyes burning.

“Look, I’m sorry if I didn’t tell you about Blake sooner.

I should have told Keith - if there’s one person in this family I regret keeping it from, it’s him.

” My throat tightens, but I don’t stop. “But I knew this would happen. This interrogation, this judgment - like I’ve done something wrong just because I love him. ”

I inhale sharply, looking around the room, my chest heaving. “I love you all. I really do. But this - this is enough.”

I meet each of their eyes, one by one, my voice shaking but steady. “I am not breaking it off with him. And I need you to please come to terms with that.”

I hold their silence for a beat. Then, without another word, I turn and walk away and spend the rest of the day crying in Blake’s arms and spending time with the kids.